I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try
But that was just a dream

- R.E.M. “Losing My Religion”

—–

Last night, I had a really upsetting dream, but I could not remember any of it. As I drove to work this morning, I tried very hard to recall the details. Nothing. Just a blank notion that something disturbing took place.

I was listening to my iPod mix, and played the song “Losing My Religion”. The lyric That was just a dream was sung, and instantly the dream started coming back to me.

In my dream, I was back in my hometown, just like I always am in dreams. I was walking into my deceased Grandmother’s house. It was dark. I saw her sitting in a chair, and I was scared.

She told me to come over to her. I hesitated, but realized this was my only opportunity to see Grandma alive again. She warned me of 2 things. I only remember 1 of them. She warned me that I was going to die in a car wreck with my parents. She told me to be very careful when I went home [and by home, she meant the home I grew up in].

I don’t remember what else was said, but I remember getting irritated with her. Some kind of explosion or disaster had happened in my hometown, and that’s why it was so dangerous to be on the road.

That’s all I really remember. But this is the first dream I’ve had about her in a long time. After she died on July 29, 2004, I had a lot of dreams about her. Most of them were very morbid. In one dream, I tried to preserve her, and bring her back to life.

I truly do not want to accept that she is dead. I have not made peace with this issue. Just the other day, I had a story I wanted to call and share with her. Then, I realized I couldn’t call her, because she wouldn’t be home.

That was just a dream.

Oh sweetie. I had dreams like that, morbid and bizarre and nostalgic, right after my granny and pawpaw died. Despite their weirdness, I liked having them at the time because I wasn’t ready to let them go. I still can’t. I haven’t had many dreams about them lately, but every once in a while they pop up. And whenever I get the urge to tell them something, I try to visit them at the cemetery. They’re buried next to each other, in the very same way they used to lay in bed when I visited, so it’s very surreal standing where I usually stand and talking to them there. But it helps, I guess. I know that’s weird, but I can completely feel where you’re coming from. Wish I could hug you

When I have dreams like that I do not want to remember them! However, I usually do, and sometimes like yours, they are prophetic. Telling me of dangers or events to come.

Hi Nathan, I’m not good at those kind of losses, either. When my dad died, it was just awful, and I still wish I had made more of a connection with him(He wasn’t allowed to raise me and my brother, thru no fault of his own).
Sorry, buddy.